The Knight's Bride Prize
Author
Ella Matthews
Reads
17.7K
Chapters
28
Harlequin
HarlequinChapter One
Hugh twisted in his saddle, glancing back to look at his travelling companion. Tristan, one of Hugh’s oldest friends, was staring glumly into the treeline, his shoulders slumped and his lips downturned. His demeanour was so at odds with his normal jovial countenance that Hugh almost held back from pointing out that Tristan had given bad advice earlier, almost. Besides, goading his friend might get him out of his current low mood. It was worth a try. ‘We should have taken that right turn.’
Tristan straightened. ‘That was not the path to the wealthiest castle in the area. It was nothing but a dirt track.’
‘We’re not looking for Windsor. It was exactly how the route to a castle in the backend of Wales would look.’
Tristan’s eyes flashed and Hugh was glad to see the spark returning to his companion. ‘I didn’t know you were such an expert on a country you have never travelled to before.’
Tristan had a point. Before this expedition to Wales, Hugh had only travelled from Croxton Castle, his family’s stronghold, to Lord Ormand’s castle on the south coast of England, and that had been over fourteen years ago. Unlike other pages and squires, he’d not returned to his parents’ home since leaving, not even for a fleeting visit. He was of no interest to his family who resided there. ‘While I am not the most travelled of knights, I still say that was the correct turn. We’ve travelled much farther on this path than the last instructions indicated we should.’
Tristan muttered something under his breath, which Hugh decided not to ask him to repeat. Neither did he insist on heading back the way they had come. They rode in silence for a while. Somewhere to their left, hidden by tall trees, the sea rumbled. To their right, an ancient woodland creaked and groaned. It was hard to think anything other than dark thoughts, to second guess everything that had led to this point or, worse, to consider what was to come next.
They rounded another corner, and the narrow path stretched into the distance until it veered slightly to the left and disappeared from view. ‘You might be right,’ Tristan conceded. ‘We should have reached Ceinwen before now. Do you want to turn round and find that side track?’
Now that Tristan agreed with him, Hugh wanted to prolong his arrival for as long as possible. ‘This road has to lead somewhere. What say we follow it to the end and find a tavern? An ale would not go amiss.’ He knew he couldn’t put off the start of his mission for long, the success of his future, hell, the future of Tristan and their third friend, Leo, also hung in the balance. He needed to succeed and yet...to do so, he would need to lie and deceive convincingly, and anyone who knew him knew those were not skills he possessed. Give him a lance, a sword or a bow, and he would thrive, but this...
‘I say, that sounds like a grand idea,’ Tristan agreed, sounding relieved at Hugh’s suggestion.
Hugh knew why he was putting off the start of his mission, but he wasn’t sure why Tristan was also reluctant to begin. Tristan was departing for his own task as soon as they found Ceinwen Castle, but his assignment was straightforward and didn’t involve entering a tournament to win a woman’s hand in marriage, all the while investigating whether the lord of the castle was committing treason. Just thinking about what lay ahead for him made Hugh want to lose the meagre lunch he’d consumed earlier.
‘How do you think Leo is getting on?’ Tristan asked.
They’d left Leo in Abertawe a few days ago to start his own mission. All he had to do was accompany a young maiden to her betrothed’s castle. ‘I would imagine he has approached it with his usual enthusiasm and that he’s already halfway through.’
Tristan nudged his horse forward until they were riding abreast. ‘And...how are you feeling about the tournament?’
‘The tournament will be fine.’ That was true; it would be easy. ‘And I’m sure that finding evidence that Lord Geraint is guilty will be straightforward.’
‘But...?’
How well Tristan knew him that he could hear the hidden doubts in Hugh’s voice. ‘I am worried about the daughter. To pretend that I want to marry the lady does not sit well with me.’
‘Of course it does not. You are the embodiment of the knightly code of chivalry.’
Hugh did not know how to respond to that compliment; he’d received so few in his life that it was a novelty. He knew his friends respected him as he did them, and he knew that he was a competent knight, good even, but next to his two friends, he always felt...slightly inadequate. Hugh was an excellent swordsman but Leo was better. Hugh could converse well enough but he lacked Tristan’s charm. Neither of his friends ever criticised him but they didn’t need to; Hugh had heard enough about his inadequacies, firstly from his family and then, later, from his liege, Lord Ormand.
Hugh knew that some of these judgements were unfair, borne perhaps from jealousy or innate unpleasantness, but that didn’t mean the words hadn’t left wounds, wounds which throbbed during long nights when sleep was hard to come by. It was true that Hugh held the vows he had made when he had become a knight in high regard, higher perhaps than most. It was important to him that he treat people according the code of chivalry because he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of bad treatment, and this core belief added to his abhorrence with this mission.
‘You probably won’t get anywhere near the daughter,’ Tristan commented. ‘And if you do, remember that what you are doing is for the good of the country. She may be an innocent maiden, but her family is not.’
‘True,’ Hugh murmured in response, hoping the conversation would die there. It didn’t matter how much Tristan reassured him, it would never sit right with Hugh to mislead a guileless woman. He knew he could not allow for this unknown woman’s feelings to matter, not if he was to succeed in his mission, but that did not stop him from wishing things were different.
Tristan did not know, nor would he ever, that Hugh had once believed himself to be in love. He had thought that when Lady Ann—daughter of Lord Ormand, master of the castle in which Leo and his friends were training—had sought him out over all the other trainees, his feelings were reciprocated. He’d been proven brutally wrong when he discovered she was only using him as a ploy to get close to Tristan, his more attractive friend. When her plan had not worked, she had discarded their friendship; Hugh had obviously meant nothing to her.
The pain and embarrassment he had suffered in the wake of her rejections had been exceedingly unpleasant. The idea that he might make another person suffer because he had raised their hopes in the same way had him losing sleep. He would do everything that he could to avoid engaging with the Lord Geraint’s daughter, and the moment he discovered the truth behind the unexplainable wealth at Ceinwen, he would leave and never look back.
Bronwen shouldn’t have ridden so far from the safety of the castle. She hadn’t been thinking when she left, taking the large bay mare she loved to ride. She hadn’t thought of what might happen to her if she were to come across any men who could be lurking in hidden corners of the forest. All she had thought about was escape. Everything was at stake, her life and her future culminating in events that would take place over the next ten days. Everything had built up inside her until her skin had begun to feel too tight, as if she might burst if she stayed behind the high castle walls for a moment longer. Riding away from building expectation had seemed the only sensible option left to her.
Now, though, she wasn’t entirely sure what part of the forest she was in, and she hadn’t told anyone where she was going. Despite the approaching tournament, there was nobody who cared enough to ask her either. Her father was already probably too drunk to notice her disappearance, and her mother too busy hiding from his cruelty. Her brothers, her younger self’s closest confidants, had long since left Ceinwen Castle. Now, it was as if she were fading into the background, present but almost unnoticeable.
Bronwen shook her head; now was not the time to become morose. Now was the time for practicality, a skill she had honed over her lifetime. She slowed Ffleur to a stop and rubbed the short hairs on the horse’s neck. She knew she could get back to her father’s stronghold, she only had to ride towards the rising sun, but under the thick canopy of leaves, she couldn’t see it clearly enough for it to help. To keep her eye on the sun, she would need to nudge her horse out of the forest and into the open. She was unlikely to meet anyone. People did not often travel around here, because there was only Ceinwen Castle or a small fishing settlement in the vicinity, but she might. If they were unfriendly strangers, then, well, she didn’t want to think about what might happen in that scenario.
Hell, even some of the men she knew would not be well met. Her father’s more dubious friends might take advantage of this situation. These men seemed to have come to live at her father’s castle for no other purpose than drinking and eating to excess and encouraging her father to do the same. It was a large part of why she was desperate to start a new life, so she could get away from the group of men who made living at Ceinwen so unpleasant. The other reason was to ease the loneliness that had crept up on her until it had become part of her.
She gripped her reins. There was nothing for it, if she didn’t get out into the open, she might never find her way back to Ceinwen. She urged Ffleur to the edge of the treeline and waited. Above the clamour of birdsong, she could hear no sound of a band of travellers, so, taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the treeline. Ffleur tossed her head, grateful to be out in the open. Bronwen gazed at the sky and realised she was not as far from home as she had feared. The path before her would take her back to safety whichever way she travelled. To the right would take her through the small fishing village, while the left was a more direct route. She turned Ffleur to the left and pulled her to an immediate halt as her heart slammed in her ribs.
Ahead of her, two men were sat astride huge horses, those that were reserved for knights. The size of the strangers suggested that is exactly what they were. Their mouths hung open as they stared at her. Slowly, she moved her hands to her waist, feeling around for the handle of her dagger, which was strapped to her belt. She found the smooth handle and gripped it tightly, even as the knights made no move towards her. Now she was out in the open, she had the advantage of knowing the lay of the land. But she would be no match for the two men if their intentions were not honourable.
The knight nearest to her had hair like burnished gold, he smiled and dipped his head. ‘May we aid you, milady?’
‘I...’ Fear was trickling down her spine, weakening her knees. The two men were large, far larger than any of the men at her father’s castle, and their broad shoulders hinted at their latent power. There would be nothing she could do if they were hostile. She knew she should respond in some way, even if it was just to return to the woodland and move out of their sight, but her terror held her still.
The second man snorted and, muttering something under his breath, pushed to the front. ‘Are you lost, milady?’ he asked, his voice brisk and direct. It shouldn’t have released the tension in her shoulders, but it did. His practicality, a mirror of her own normal behaviour, was unthreatening, and his calm voice snapped through her fright. Although she kept her grip on her dagger, she relaxed enough to speak.
‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I am not off track, but I thank you for your concern.’
He moved forward again, blocking her view of the man behind completely. As he did so, the sun threw his face into sharp relief, and her breath caught in her lungs in a way that had nothing to do with fear. The stranger was not handsome as such, but there was something so striking about his features. His dark hair was cropped short, although not entirely evenly. His face was clean-shaven. Thick brows shadowed blue eyes. It was the eyes that held her gaze and had her heart racing faster.
‘May we escort you somewhere?’ he asked, his voice warm and gentle. ‘I can assure you that we mean you no harm.’
She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I would be grateful if you would let me pass, and then I will be on my way.’
‘Of course.’ He twisted in his saddle, his broad body moving with ease. ‘Tristan, pull to the side to allow the lady room to pass.’
She moved slowly. Even though they had been nothing but courteous, she half expected one of them to make a grab for her when she was close, but both men held still. Her senses heightened as she began to move towards them, time seemed to slow, and she was aware of her horse’s every footfall, the crunch of the twigs, the way her hands trembled on her reins.
When she was level with the dark-haired man, her head seemed to turn of its own accord so that she was looking straight at him. For a long moment, they stared at each other. Later, she would question her strange behaviour, but right now, she couldn’t tear her gaze away as everything centred on him.
Her horse eventually moved far enough past him that she could no longer keep looking at him unless she twisted backwards in her saddle. The urge was strong to do so, but she managed to resist and to keep moving forwards until she was past them both. She didn’t spare the second man another glance. As soon as she was able, she kicked her horse into motion and rode as fast as she could towards the safety of her father’s stronghold, all the while questioning what exactly had happened to her in that endless moment.
